


Remember me I ask, Remember me I sing

by LadyAhiru



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Amnesia!Jaskier, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub!Sex, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage, Miscommunication, Mortal!Jaskier turning into Immortal!Jaskier, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Rimming, Roach (The Witcher) - Freeform, Scent Kink, Smut, Soft!Geralt, Soft!Jaskier, TOP! Geralt, Vesemir is done with Geralts brooding, Yen is a good bro, Yen ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAhiru/pseuds/LadyAhiru
Summary: When Geralt finally pulls his head out of his own ass and goes to find his bard after their big fight he is surprised that Jaskier is happy to see him. He shortly realises that the singer had an accident and doesn't remember a thing, a misunderstanding leads him to believe he is Geralt's lover and the Witcher, to scared to lose him again, doesn't correct him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 177
Kudos: 1269





	1. You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child...

**Author's Note:**

> I love myself a good amnesia story, combined with a fake relationship trope I just melt. This has a bit of a twist but I am very happy with the outcome. Fanfic Title, as well as Chapter Headers, are taken from the Song "The Horror and the Wild" from Joey Batey´s Band "the amazing Devil"
> 
> The Tags refer to the whole story that is finished so don't worry that this will be an uncompleted story that haunts you forever. I will post new Chapters every few days while I work on the next Fanfic.

At first, he isn’t able to clearly categorize the weird big knot in his stomach. He was neither hungry nor tired nor cold or injured so the sensation made no sense. He thought about it on his way down the mountain, his mind welcoming the distraction so he didn’t have to focus on what was really going on. It started small, like a too-big meal lying in his stomach, undigested but it grew bigger and heavier the longer he travelled. The sodden knot grew and infested him like a disease that was spreading its ugly wings. He also felt like he had trouble breathing and his throat was closing up, like having a lump in his throat as Jaskier had when after being attacked by that bloody Djinn, he felt bitterness when he swallowed and still did so on his third day going down the mountain when he finally reached the foot of the mountain range on his trusty mare. He roamed through Roache's saddle packs but couldn’t find the potion that he was looking for so out of habit he turned in a whirl to ask the bard “Jaskier? Where is the blue-“ – Silence -. But instead of feeling blessed by it, it was laughing at him, only the wind around him snickered and there was nothing and nobody to answer him.

The truth came crashing down on Geralt like ice-cold water and he fell to his knees as realization hit. He kneeled on the dirty ground beside his horse for hours trying to grasp the reality of his actions. He got what he wanted “silence” all-consuming around him, oh what a fool he had been. Roach trotted closer and rubbed her snout against his face, a small comfort. He stumbled back on his feet and frantically looked through her saddle packs once again and there he found what he was looking for, or more precisely he didn’t, because all of Jaskiers belongings were gone. Gone was the leather-bound book he used to write lyrics and pressed small flowers in. “I just like how they look Geralt” he had said when he had picked some purple Forget-Me-Nots. Geralt hadn’t slowed down for him and the bard had to start running to catch up with the Witcher. Now he wished he would have stopped and taken time to pick flowers with Jaskier instead.

Gone were his perfumes, creams and soaps. Gone the Lute String Case and all of Jaskiers other little trinkets. Gone his Bedroll and his blanket. The bard had left and he had taken the Witchers heart with him. Slowly Geralt mounted his horse and started to ride, his eyes stung but he didn’t understand why, as far as he was aware he had never cried before. He urged Roach on, following the small path all the way to Cintra but that sodden knot in his stomach never went away.

He was three months into his journey when he heard it the first time. “Her sweet kiss” they call it and the knot in his stomach grew some more, it grew so big he could hardly bear it and neither did the lump in his throat until he felt unable to breathe. He wanted to scream and shout, to tear out his own hair and scratch his own skin bloody only to get rid of that cursed feeling inside of him. He didn’t understand why his eyes kept stinging every time he heard the damn song. He didn’t understand why at nights when it was cold he unconsciously reached over for someone who wasn’t there to keep them warm. He didn’t understand why he smiled softly whenever he saw someone picking flowers. What he did understand was that he needed to keep going forward, that he needed to further ignore the pit in his stomach and focus on the task beforehand. But there was no time to dwell on that now. First, he had to find the Lion Cub of Cintra, he could figure out his feelings after he found her and made sure she was safe.

Turns out he didn’t have to look for the lion cub for long. Ciri found him in the middle of the woods and when she pressed her small face against his chest a little bit of the heavy feeling subsided and he was breathing a little more freely, at least for a short while. She talked a lot, just like the bard but still not enough to fill the hole in his heart. She was a curious girl and a little intrusive at times, asking him questions about his journey, about Yennefer and about Jaskier… Jaskier. One night after another round of Ciri’s endless questions something came loose inside of him, something he had held onto his whole life and he decided to tell her everything. He didn’t know what it was but there was something about Ciri made him open up, spill his thoughts and feelings, even those he didn’t realize he had until he said them out loud. He told her about Yen, and that he loved her but that he wasn’t **in** **love** with her. That the only reason they kept crashing into and sleeping with each other was that it was easy and the reason it was so easy was that there were no big feelings to consider. It was then he realized that the things she said to him on the mountain that day were true.

He realized that there was no real love between them and that whatever pull he had felt towards her was gone now. He still cared about her deeply and wanted her to be happy and if possible fulfil her wish but he didn’t want to be a part of that wish anymore. If he was true to himself he never wanted to be part of it. He liked the idea of it, to settle down, raise a child but the reality was that he didn’t want those things with her. He felt a bit lighter inside after telling Ciri about her and the child squeezed his hand trying to show him that it was ok to feel those things. It was a small gesture, a gesture that a few months ago Geralt would have shrugged off, an unwelcomed touch by someone else but now he let her comfort him in her own small ways and took a deep breath before he continued his tales. If he thought talking about Yennefer would be hard than he was clearly more stupid than he originally thought because talking about Jaskier was tearing him open inside. He started somewhere in the middle. When they had already been travelling together for a while and he had grown accustomed to the constant babbling around him. Once he started talking the words came and came, they spilled out of him like a waterfall running down a mountain he told her every small and unimportant detail about the bard. How he always smelled of flowers and parchment, how his fingertips were always stained with ink, that he had freckles on his cheeks and nose.

That he would complain and whine about travelling on foot but would always carry his own weight. That he had grown and learned so much in the years travelling together, now being an expert tracker himself and able to make up a campsite perfectly in a short amount of time. He told her of the way that Jaskier liked to drink his tea, that he was allergic to nuts and that he had a deep-rooted love for chocolate. He told her about the bards' songs, at least the ones that are suited for the ears of children and he even started humming a few. He told her about all the big things, and all the small things, and when he was finished he felts the knot in his stomach roar in fury. He felt sick and he didn’t know why.

Ciri was silent during all of this. She listened to him intently, all while holding his hand. Finally, when he was done she looked up at him with her big blue eyes. Not cornflower blue like Jaskier, but brighter like a riverbed. She blinked a few times and opened her mouth. “I don’t understand Geralt. You are clearly in love with him. Why did you send him away?” she said when he was finished. Geralt wanted to laugh at the comment, the stupid notion of love, wanted to clarify that that was not what he was feeling, he wanted to tell her that this was a misunderstanding but he couldn’t. He opened his mouth but no words came out so he closed it again, shut his eyes and grunted in frustration. He could see the bard clearly before him smiling and throwing bath salts at him. He remembered the sensation of feeling Jaskiers hands in his hair, untangling it, but never forceful, always soft… soft, so very soft and he opened his eyes wide as he suddenly realized the truth. And for the first time in almost a year, the big knot in his stomach grew smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru
> 
> Next Chapter Ciri and Geralt will reach Kaer Morhen and Geralt will have a heart to heart with Yen ;)


	2. You're the words that I promise I don't mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yen is forcing Geralt to talk about his feelings until he goes to find his Bard

They reached Kaer Morhen a few weeks before winter sets. A weight lifted from Geralt's shoulders when they reached the hidden fortress and he was able to relax a bit. Yen was already waiting for them and welcomed Ciri with open arms and an open heart. When they looked at each other there was mutual fondness but nothing more and Geralt's knot grew slightly lighter again. He let the two women get acquainted which each other while he hurried inside to raid the kitchen. Lambert and Eskel greeted him like a long lost brother and they pushed each other around playfully until Vesemir called an end to it. During Dinner, there was a light fullness in the air that wasn’t able to reach Geralt's heart and he excused himself after he had eaten, taking a bottle of whiskey with him up to his tower room.

He stood there for a while staring out the highest window when he heard Yen approach behind him. He could easily decipher her footsteps from the others and in a friendly gesture put a warm hand on his shoulderand waited. They didn’t say anything for what seemed hours but finally, Geralt put his own hand on top of hers. “I fucked up, Yen” he said. “No shit. Tell me about it.” she snorted in a very uncharacteristic way. So he did.

They sat next to each other, staring out the window, passing the now half-empty whisky bottle between them. “That is some fucked up horse shit Geralt.” Yen finally said taking a big swig out of the bottle, before handing it back to the Witcher. “I know.” His voice sounded small, smaller than she had ever heard it and she wanted to reach inside his body and rip out that ugly feeling. “We are friends, yeah?” she asked. “Of course Yen, I know I haven’t always-“She stopped him with her hand, grabbed the bottle again and continued “Well, as your friend I am telling you. With much love. You, good Witcher, are an asshole.” “I know” he mumbled. “I guess, the question now is… “ Yen said, “…are you gonna spend winter here, watching me train Ciri and lick your wounds or are you actually man enough to go out and claim your bard before someone else does.”

The thought of someone else touching Jaskier, someone kissing him, smelling and tasting him ignited a hot ball of anger inside Geralt and he griped his own legs so hard his knuckles turned completely white. What if he was already too late? What if the bard had finally, truly moved on? A low growl escaped him and Yen's bright laughter resounded in the open room. He got up, tumbling and angry and she shook her head. “It’s the middle of the night Geralt. Go to bed, you can leave and find the songbird tomorrow.” He knew she was right. It would do no good if he left now but a part of him didn’t want to wait any longer, so he started pushing her out of his room, his bed, her laughter still lingering. He started packing so he would be able to leave at first light. Ciri was ecstatic when Yen told her the next morning and she promised to train as best as she could as to be able to impress Geralt upon his return. She took an instant liking to Yennefer and for the first time since she had been running Ciri felt at home.

Roach was tired. They had been riding for weeks now, and the heavy snowfall around them had slowed them down. The roads were frozen over and even Roach for all her training started to slide and slipper. There was a small town up ahead. Geralt wasn’t even sure if it had a name but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to rest. He had been looking for Jaskier without any success and he had a hard time pushing the scared voice inside him down. Because, it was one thing to lose the bard to another but if something terrible happened to him or he died even, Geralt knew he would never be able to forgive himself. Roach gave off a relieved neigh when Geralt dismounted and put her into the warm stable next to the small Inn. There was no singing inside but he could feel the warmth coming from the building and he stormed inside like the snowstorm that was still hauling trough the valley. He took a seat at the bar, since all tables were occupied and the Innkeeper nodded in a greeting. “What can I get you Sir Wolf?” he asked. Geralt swallowed …Sir Wolf… even here in the middle of fucking nowhere Jaskiers Song has reached the people. Even here he had changed people’s perspective of him, so they greet him with respect and even kindness instead of fear. “A room, and a hot bath if you have it and some food in said room.” Geralt said. The Innkeeper nodded, handed Geralt an old well used key and said “Sure thing Sir Wolf, last door on the right, upstairs. I’ll send for your bath and Julian will bring you some food as soon as it’s done.”

The room was bigger than he expected, clean and warm, with its own little hearth burning. Some young maidens brought in the bathtub and filled it to the brim with hot steaming water. He undressed and let himself be immersed in the hot water, almost too hot for his liking and relaxed, his cold bones slowly warming up when he heard a sudden soft knock on the door.

Something like a memory stirred inside of him at the sound of the knock but he was way too tired and cold to really think about it. There was another knock and a muffled voice coming through the door. “Sir Witcher? It’s me? Julian. I have your food?” The voice sounded uncertain and Geralt grunted before replying. “Come in boy.” The door opened and the mug of ale that Geralt held in his hands fell to the floor as his fingers lost their grip, smashing it into pieces. In an instant, the young man, not a boy, was beside him putting the plate of food on the small side table next to the tub before kneeling down to pick up the broken pieces of clay. Geralt could only stare at chestnut hair that was longer than he remembered, falling onto sharp cheekbones covered in freckles. Stare at long delicate fingers that hurried to pick up the mess he made. Stare at the cornflower blue eyes that looked at him curiously. “Sir Witcher? Is everything all right?”

Maybe it was the Ale, or he maybe had gone mad while travelling on his own but Geralt stood up violently and threw his arms around the young man, pulling him close and inhaling his scent. There it was, parchment, and flowers and ink. “Jaskier” he quietly sobbed while rubbing small circles into the bards back. For a second the young man stood frozen in the Witchers arms but then relaxed and brought his own arms around Geralt, before taking a small step back, carefully to only look at the Witchers Face and not to let his eyes wander. “I am sorry Sir Witcher, do we….do we know each other?” Geralt sat down in the tub again, or more fell down as his knees gave out under him. He looked at Jaskier, really looked at him and there was no doubt that it was him but there was no recognition in Jaskiers eyes. “I…do you know who I am?” Jaskier asked and Geralt grabbed the sides of the Tub and breathed in hard. “You called me Jaskier. Is that my name? Please tell me Sir Witcher!” “Geralt. My name is Geralt.” was all Geralt could say. Jaskier, no Julian sat at the edge of the tub and looked at him so intently and hopefully that Geralt's heart was ripped apart and put back together. “Geralt,” Julian repeated and his shaking hands reached for the Witcher only to stop a few inches before his face. “Please Geralt,” he said and Geralt's had to close his eyes because he had dreamed about the bard saying those words, he had just had imagined it to be in a completely different context.

“Yes Jaskier, I do know you,” he said. The smile on his bards face could only be described as all-consuming and it was as bright as the sun and Geralt found himself looking away because it was too much. A voice outside called Julian’s name and he turned around to the open door. “I... I have to go back to work but please Sir, Geralt will you stay to tell me who I am?” he was pleading and Gerald knew in this instance that whatever Jaskier would ask for he wouldn’t be able to refuse it. “Of course,” he replied. Julian smiled again before rushing out the door, closing it behind him. The bath was still hot, so was the steaming food beside him but Geralt couldn’t move or think or breathe. He just stared into nothingness realizing the water had turned cold he finally got out of the tub to eat the food Julien/Jaskier had brought him. After that, he went to bed but sleep wouldn’t come to him.

When morning came and he arrived at the stable to take care of Roach he was surprised to find Jaskier next to her brushing her. “Oh…good morning,” Jaskier said. “I hope it is okay, I fed her already? The girls wanted to do it but your horse wouldn’t let them near her.” Geralt nodded and brushed his hand over Roache's warm fur, close to where Jaskiers own hand lay. “Roach, her name is Roach. She knows you as well.” Geralt said. “I figured since she seemed happy to see me,” Jaskier replied. His voice was tired as he looked at Geralt waiting for something. “I. We. Fuck.” was the only response the Witcher managed to give while he looked at the former bard before telling him that they did know each other, that they had been riding together for over 20 years and that he has been looking for him, fearing he might never see the bard ever again. He took a risk, then putting his blistered hand onto Jaskiers cheek, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin and exhaling only after the bard was leaning into the touch.

“I am so relieved Geralt.” the bard said, taking a step closer and pushing his face deeper into Geralt's palm and relaxing. “They found me. Connor and his daughters. Not far from here, a few months ago. I had this ugly gush on my head.” he said pushed the hair up to reveal an ugly long scar on the left side of his forehead. “I don’t know what happened but they saved my life. They brought me here and gave me a place to stay. They are good people. I don’t remember much of before but I would love to learn about myself again.” he told the Witcher. Geralt felt himself nodding, staring at the bright pink scar on Jaskiers head. He took his free hand and slowly and very carefully traced the line before grabbing Jaskiers hair and letting his fingers run through the soft strands. He let his hand trail down the back of Julian’s head, all the way down to his neck where he squeezed before coming to a rest on the small of Jaskiers back, pushing the bard a little closer to him. His other hand was still on the bard’s cheek, rubbing into the skin absentmindedly. Cornflower blue eyes looked up at him softly. “I am sorry I didn’t find you sooner Jaskier.” Geralt said. “Don’t be, I am all right I am just glad, you found me Geralt,” Jaskier replied quietly. And before the Witcher could answer the bards raised to his tiptoes and pressed his lips against Geralt's. His eyes fluttered shut automatically as he revelled in the feeling of those soft lips against his before reality came crushing back.

He had said that they had been together for 20 years, something Jaskier probably misunderstood. He had caressed the bard, simply out of happiness that he was at least physically alright. Any good man would take a step back, would explain that they are merely good friends, travelling companions. Would explain that it was him, Geralt who sent the bard away in the first place, clear up the misunderstanding before this went any further. Geralt was not a good man though and his fingers pushed under the other man’s wool shirt and gripped his waist, hard enough to leave bruises, pulling him flat against his chest while deepening the kiss. A soft moan escaped Julian’s mouth and Geralt seized the opportunity to slip his tongue between Jaskiers pink flush lips. A part of him was aware that what he was doing was wrong, so very wrong and that he was a monster for not telling Jaskier the truth, but the other part the much louder part of him, the part that was in love with Jaskier told him that this was his only chance to have what he truly desired. That he could tell the bard later, when he made sure without a doubt, that Jaskier loved him too.

“Geralt. Ah…” Soft moans filled the stable and to his delight Geralt felt the other man’s hand in his hair pulling at the leather string until it came loose and fell down onto his shoulders only to be pushed up by soft hands again. He kissed Jaskier again, deep and filthy as if he was dying of thirst and Jaskier was clear freshwater. Finally they stopped, just to catch some air and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskiers. “Oh…oh.” Julian smiled bright and soft and beamed at him. “Will you take me with you then when you leave?” “Of course little lark.” Jaskier made a happy sound and kissed him again, quick and chaste this time before straightening his clothes. “I need to tell Connor that I will be leaving soon!” Jaskier said before rushing to the stable gates only to turn around and to kiss Geralt once more before finally leaving the stable. Geralt's heavy breathing slowly became normal again and he turned around only to catch Roach looking at him accusingly. “Not one word.” he said before finishing his horses brushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru
> 
> Chapter 3 (will probably post later tonight or tomorrow) has our Boys back on the path, getting to know each other again


	3. And I am time itself, I slow to let you play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on the road, Geralt and his bard get reacquainted - smut happens

Connor and his twin daughters, Sophia and Elena were happy for Julian. They even refused to take any of Geralt's coin when he decided to stay another night. During the day he barely saw Jaskier, as he was working in the inn, serving food, cooking and cleaning. Every time he did see him tough the younger man smiled at him lovingly and he felt like the worst person in existence. He promised to come clean to the bard the next morning before they were heading out but promises were easily broken, especially the ones made to yourself. He laid in the warm bed, half-awake when the door to his room opened and he heard Jaskiers soft footsteps wander into the room. Before he could say anything the bard pulled off his covers and slipped into bed with him, pressing his naked legs against Geralt's and all he could do was breathe. “Geralt,” Jaskier whispered and the promise that Geralt made to himself shattered as he pulled Jaskier closer into a wet kiss. He slung his arm around the slender man and pulled until the bard was on top of him, resting between his open thighs and grinding down. “You aren’t wearing any pants.” Geralt said and he was aware that he must have sounded like an idiot but he didn’t care.

All he cared for was the heavy blush that reddened Jaskiers cheek and he kissed him again and again until they were both out of breathe. He could feel Jaskier growing hard against him and it was the best thing he had ever felt in his lifeand something like pride swelled in his chest. Jaskier was rubbing himself against the Witcher, only his the thin fabric of his underclothes between him and Geralt's naked thigh and he was whimpering quietly. It was like music to Geralt's ears and he pushed the bard a few inches away, silencing the sounds of protest with another searing kiss before reaching between them and wrapping his calloused hands around Jaskiers cock. “Geralt!” Jaskiers pushed his head into the crook of Geralt's Neck, panting and sobbing small cries of pleasure while the Witchers hands moved slow but hard on him. “Yes, please…more!” Geralt did as he was told and spit into his own hand before bringing it back onto Jaskiers cock, pushing the foreskin back and smearing the leaking precum from the head down to the bottom of the shaft. Jaskier was moaning loudly biting into the Witchers neck to keep himself from screaming before he came all over Geralt's hand. He held onto the Witcher violently shaking but smiling with cheeks and lips red as roses.

“Oh. I…oh.” He took a few moments to calm himself before sitting up and pulling on Geralt's pants. “You don’t have to, little songbird. It’s alright. Why don’t you get to sleep?” Geralt pushed him down back onto his chest and even though Jaskier wanted to protest and return the loving favour he found himself tired and slowly drifting to sleep drawing circles on the Witchers chest with his delicate fingers. “Mhm...” Geralt felt sleep overcome him as well and closed his eyes peacefully.

When he woke up the first thing he felt was Jaskiers warm breath against his chest and for the first time in his long life, he refused to get up with the first light of the sun. Instead, he enjoyed the warmth of the bed and Jaskier half on top of him, his slender legs wrapped around Geralt own, his hands on his stomach, his cheek pressed into the dark hair on Geralt's chest, slightly drooling and breathing easy and peacefully. He pulled his left arm out under his bedmate and started to slightly stroke Jaskiers hair. His other hand came up from his side to rest on top of Jaskiers hand on his stomach. “Geralt?” Jaskiers voice was deep and still full of sleep as he intertwined their fingers together. “Shhh. Its early little lark, go back to sleep.” Geralt whispered. Jaskier didn’t open his eyes but raised his head so Geralt could kiss him before drifting off again.

When they woke up again it was still early morning but late for their usual habits. Jaskier woke the Witcher with light kisses pressed to his face and Geralt flipped them over, pressing his full weight into the laughing bard before claiming his soft mouth in a heated morning kiss. “Do we have time?” The bard asked while letting his hand travel down Geralt's broad chest, brushing his fingers through his hair. Geralt let out a growl like a hungry wolf. He wanted to bite into Jaskiers neck and claim him like an animal but the reasonable side of him won and he stopped Jaskiers hand. “We have to leave soon little lark. Find a place to stay during winter.” Jaskiers face fell for a second but he nodded in understanding. They got up and dressed and while the Witcher gathered his things, Jaskier said goodbye to his new friends and assembled his own belongings.

They met again in the stable and even though they had only been apart for an hour they hugged and kissed as if they had been apart for weeks. “I see you brought your lute little lark,” Geralt said. Jaskier laughed while he put his belongings into Roache's saddlebags, putting them in without thinking, where they always used to go. “Oh, I assume I played before? I tried you know, after the accident but I don’t even know how to properly hold that thing.” He paused for a second and looked up at Geralt. “Is that why you call me little lark? Did I use to sing and play?” Jaskier asked. “Yes, Jaskier. I can stop if you want to.” “No, no! I like it and I want to remember.” Geralt hugged him and lifted him up to sit on Roach. “I promise I will tell you all about yourself, at least all that I know.” Happy with the Witchers answer Jaskier waited until Geralt mounted Roach behind him before he wiggled himself comfortable into place against the Witchers chest.

It was going to be a long journey back to Kaer Morhen, snow and ice already covering the roads and Geralt knew he needed to find them a place to stay for the next heavy storm before his little lark froze to death. In the old days, Jaskier would complain and whine about the cold and sing while Geralt only grunted, now their roles were reversed. Jaskier was cuddled deep against him, basking in his natural body heat while being wrapped into thick blankets while Geralt told him anything about him he remembered, which surprisingly was a lot more than he would have thought. He told him about their first meeting and grinned joyfully as Jaskier laughed hard at the “Bread in my pants” line.

“Oh god, I can’t believe you let me follow you after such a shitty come on.” Geralt nuzzled his nose into the crook of Jaskiers neck and breathed his scent in deeply before returning his focus on the road ahead. “To be fair Jaskier you had only been 18 at the time.” “I don’t think youth is an excuse for shitty flirting my dear Witcher,” Jaskier replied. He was silent for a while after that before he continued. “That means I am 40 now, huh. Not bad for a man in the middle of his lifespan.” he joked. Geralt's heart clenched. He would probably only have twenty maybe thirty more years with his human and his grip around Jaskiers waist tightened. He looked at the chestnut hair and the cornflower eyes full with love.

Jaskier was right, he was indeed doing very well for a man in his forties. His skin was still smooth and clean, only small crow’s feet around the bright blue eyes, not even the slightest hint of grey in his hair. Geralt stared and stared at Jaskier and continued to do so for a good thirty minutes, which upon he realized that Jaskier looked like he was maybe in his late 20s or early 30s but not near his 40s at all. Sure he had a few scars on his body, a testament of travelling with a Witcher and his face was less round than it used to be, sharper than when they had first met but still, Jaskier looked younger than he was supposed to. “Hm.” Jaskier looked up to him in question but Geralt only shook his head. Even if he could come up with a reasonable question, Jaskier would not remember an answer anyway. So the Witcher just decided to keep close watch over Julian as long as the other permitted it.

The cold wind kept blowing faster and harder and he could feel the former bard shiver against him and even Roach was starting to feel a bit uneasy on the frozen road. Geralt started to look for shelter, he would have preferred to travel further since it was only early afternoon but if a storm was coming he would not risk his fragile human. He got lucky a few moments later as he spotted an old abandoned watchtower. He made sure Roach was comfortable in the small stable next to it and rubbed her dry with some hey before making sure that Jaskier was well situated in the Tower. “I’ll get us some wood and food, stay here,” he said. A soft hand stopped him, by grabbing his collar and when he turned around he was met with a loving kiss. “Be careful,” Jaskier said before unpacking their bedrolls. When Geralt came back Jaskier had already started a small fire with old dry straw and he nodded approvingly.

The Witcher quickly added wood and with the use of an Igni, the fire was soon burning hot and filling the small room in warm orange light. Jaskier had collected some snow they could melt to cook with and he added the rabbits he had killed earlier to prepare a stew. Jaskier had made their makeshift beds in front of the fire and after Geralt put their small cauldron on he pulled the Witcher down onto the furs with him. “You should keep me warm while we wait for the food,” Jaskier said smiled at the Witcher before starting to undo his shirt. “Jaskier.” Geralt smiled softly but stopped Jaskiers Hand. “We should rest. We need to travel again as soon as the snowfall stops.” Jaskiers face fell and Geralt felt sick to his stomach when the bard asked: “Did I. Did I do something wrong?” He quickly pulled Jaskier onto his lap and hugged him tightly “Of course not my sweet little lark.” Geralt assured him. “Then why do you refuse to touch me, first this morning and now?”

Shit, how was Geralt supposed to answer that? He didn’t want to hurt Jaskier and Gods did he want to touch him, smell him, taste him, devour him. But it was wrong. He could not keep doing this, lying to his love. “I do want to touch you Jaskier, I just thought you would want more time to get reacquainted with each other. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. We can take it slow my love. Learn each other again.” he explained.

A soft “Oh” left Jaskiers mouth and he smiled up at his Witcher. “I like that.” A comfortable silence fell over them as they cuddled in front of the fire and waited for the stew to cook. “You are allergic to most nuts.” Geralt randomly said after a while and Jaskier snorted in the crook of his neck where he had pressed his face into. “Good thing they aren’t in season now or I would have found that out the hard way.” Geralt's grip around him became tighter. Jaskiers hand found Geralt's and he laced their fingers together. After they ate Geralt cleaned his swords while Jaskier rediscovered Geralt's “Book of Potion brewing”. He was delighted to find handwritten notes done by his own hand in it and made sure to relearn all he could to support his Witcher. He tried to pretend to not notice but he could feel Geralt's searing gaze upon him and his cheeks blushed. “Geralt…” “Hm?” “Stop.” Geralt's low chuckle rumbled through the small tower as he shifted his focus back on his work.

Finally, they laid down next to each other and Jaskier wiggled himself closer until he was pressed against Geralt. "Still cold…” Grunting Geralt pulled him half under him, making sure all the blankets rested on top of them, then started rubbing lazy circles in Jaskiers back. “Better?” he asked. Jaskier nodded and raised his head. “Aren’t you at least going to kiss me goodnight?” Geralt had only so much willpower and he lowered himself carefully onto his bard, carefully as not to crush him with his weight then softly kissed him. Jaskier melted under him like butter in the sun and opened his mouth to welcome Geralt's greedy tongue.

Quickly his lark started to moan and flutter under him and Geralt had to hold him steady. “Jaskier. I am not having you here in the wilderness without any oil or a bed. I won’t hurt you like that.” Geralt said. “Ah, Geralt.” His small hands pulled on Geralt's hair to give him access to the Witcher pale neck. “You do realize that that only makes me want you more, yes?” Jaskier giggled. Geralt laughed and kissed him again, this time slow and sweet. “Sleep Jaskier, the sooner we get to travel again the sooner we will find a place with a warm bed” Gerald lovingly chided. “Yes, Sir!” Jaskier whispered roughly, a sound that went straight to Geralt's cock, but he ignored it. He meant what he said. He would not have Jaskier roughly without any preparation on the cold hard floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru


	4. Witness me, old man, I am the wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Smut, then Jaskier remembers - OH NO ^^

Waking up had always been something quick for Geralt. You woke up, you got up you got on with your day. Now with Jaskier, it was different. Even when they travelled before he would sometimes allow himself a few moments to just look at the sleeping bard beside him and now it took him even longer to finally get up. He still woke up long before Jaskier did but now he was allowed to look, to let his hands roam over Jaskiers back, to pet his soft hair. He stretched and kissed his bard slowly awake. As comfortable as he was, the snow had stopped falling and they should hurry on. “Is it morning yet?” came the sleepy voice from under the covers. “Sadly so little lark.” Jaskier made an annoyed sound, somewhere between a grunt and a whine and got up.

The next week passed slowly and the only inn they had reached was fully booked. They both became more and more frustrated. Every touch and every kiss turned into a heated promise that needed to be fulfilled soon. Geralt was still struggling with telling Jaskier the truth but every time the former bard looked at him with those big loving eyes he decided against it. Then, finally, after almost two weeks on the path, they found a small town that had an inn. Both, exhausted, hungry and cold, stormed into the building after making sure Roach was situated in the inns stable. “Please, please good Innkeeper tell me you have an available room.” The huge man laughed at Jaskiers pleading face and nodded. “Aye, we sure do, but it’s small only one bed. Does have a fireplace-“ "We take it! For a night!” A grunt beside him. “Two nights.” Another grunt. “Three!” A pleased huff. “And a bath tonight and food!”

The Innkeeper nodded and after the exchange of coin, they were shown to the room. It was indeed very small, just enough space for a small table with a chair and a bed in the corner, a trunk in front of it. It did have a big fireplace though and while Geralt and Jaskier stowed away their things two servant girls light the fire and brought the bathtub in. It took them a while to fill and heat it during which both Jaskier and Geralt tried really hard not to look at each other. During the last two weeks, ever since they left Connors small inn, they had only kissed and hugged and not touched more of each other and they both were buzzing with desire and need. As soon as the bath was set and the girls had set two plates with cheeses and meat onto the table and left Jaskier urged forward. His speed was almost inhuman as he pushed Geralt against the now-closed door, his fingernails pressing into Geralt's shoulders in a hard and ravenous grip.

“Get. Your. Clothes. Off. Now.” There was no hesitation in Geralt as he did as his lark told him. He had given up on doing the right thing, and let himself be truly selfish for once in his life. He started with his own clothing until he was naked and Jaskier let out a small growl as he took him in. For a split second, he was scared that Jaskier would be repulsed, he would not remember his naked form, all the uneven skin patches, the scars and burn marks but all he could smell was Jaskiers arousal, spicy, heavy and sweet. He pulled at his lovers’ shirt and ripped it from the bards’ shoulders, too far gone to be bothered with buttons.

“Fuck, Geralt! That was expensive…I think.” The younger man laughed and wiggled out his own pants. They stood there, barely an inch of air between them, both naked and breathing heavy just looking. Geralt took in Jaskiers pale skin, his chest covered with soft-looking brown hair that he just wanted to run his fingers through, his strong arms and shoulders sprinkled with freckles, his lean long legs, his toned stomach and the patch of hair that went down over his navel, further down to his already hard cock, it was not as wide as Geralt's but thick and long nonetheless and surrounded by soft short curls, Geralt could feel his mouth starting to water at the look of him. Before Jaskier could even react Geralt let himself drop to his knees, ignoring the pain of the hardwood floor and sucked Jaskiers cock into his mouth in one swift motion. “Holy Shit!” Jaskiers eyes became wide and huge and he had to grip his hands into Geralt's shoulder to keep himself standing.

Geralt took no prisoners, he swirled his tongue over Jaskiers leaking head over and over again until Jaskier was reduced to a shaking sobbing mess. “Oh Geralt, please, please I can’t. Have mercy!” Geralt had none. He buried his nose in Jaskiers pubic hair and breathed in the damp sweat that was starting to sit there. Growling he reached around and kneaded his large hands into Jaskiers arse. Julian started to spasm above him, his moans growing louder and louder. His blunt fingernails dug so hard into Geralt's shoulders that on a human he would have already left marks. “Geralt. I can’t hold on any longer-“But Geralt didn’t stop if anything he only gripped Jaskiers butt harder, drawing him even closer to him and happily swallowing down Jaskiers warm seed without losing one single drop.

His breathing came in small intervals and Geralt nuzzled his nose against Jaskiers stomach, holding him up and giving him time to catch his own breath again. Jaskier wove his fingers into Geralts white hair and pulled harshly, forcing Geralt to stand up. He quickly found himself with a handful of the bard as arms flung around him and his mouth was claimed in a burning kiss. Jaskier was still frantic, there was too much teeth in the kiss but Geralt loved every second of it nonetheless. Finally Jaskier took a small step back. “I want to feel you inside of me my dear Witcher.” And wasn’t that a thought. Geralt did not ask if he was sure, the look in Jaskiers eyes said it all and he picked the bard up, who promptly brought his legs around the Witchers waist to hold on. Thanks to his Witcher strength he easily climbed into the still warm bath and settled Jaskier on top of him. “Grab the Oil little Lark.”

Jaskier reached over him for his apothecary pack and rummaged around until he found a small clear bottle with chamomile oil and eagerly pushed it into Geralts waiting hand. He settled against the Witchers chest half-kneeling so his butt reached just above the Water, pressing Geralts face into his own chest, where the Witcher quickly found a nipple to tease with his tongue. Julian’s breath came hard and he felt his cook growing with renewed interest. Gods how he adored the brutish man under him. There was no doubt that he loved him dearly, that they must have known each other long and intimately before his accident. He could feel it every time he looked at the other man, every time they kissed and touched. He could feel it in the soft way Geralt kissed his head every night, in the lingering smiles and in the careful way he prepared him right now. Geralts face was still pressed against his chest, one of his arms around Julian’s waist to hold him up, the other deep between his cheeks and one calloused finger slowly working him open. Jaskiers own hands held onto Geralts hair, his fingers spread into the soft white locks he loved so much, his mouth wide open, trying to breathe through all the feelings that blossomed inside of him.

“Another Geralt! I am not gonna break.” He demanded in a rough voice and moaned loudly when Geralt obliged. A second finger found its way inside him, slowly pushing in and out until he could only grind back against them, fucking himself on Geralts hand. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” Geralt covered his shaking chest in small open mouth kisses before adding a third finger and brushing them deep inside of him over that sweet, sweet spot that made Jaskier whine. Tears of pleasure streamed down his face and finally, Geralt took mercy and lifted him, withdrew his fingers only to fill him with his cock. They both paused for a moment, Jaskiers shaking legs rubbing against the rough wood of the bathtub and kissing his Witcher deeply, chasing his own taste on his lover’s lips. When Geralt started to move inside of him while biting harshly into the side of his neck he knew it wouldn’t take him long to come again.

“Gods Jas, you have no idea how you feel around me. So perfect.” Geralts hands dug hard into his hips leaving finger-shaped bruises and with a loud scream of his Witchers name Julian came a second time that night. Geralt followed shortly after, spilling his seed deep inside his bard and holding him firmly on top of him afterwards. They held each other tightly and exchanged slow kisses before they smiled at each other. “I didn’t hurt you little lark?” Geralt softly brushed over the bards' slender hips, who shook his head. “Gods no Geralt. It was everything.” He kissed him deeply. “You are everything.” He smiled against his Witchers lips. “Now feed me and put me to bed I can’t feel my legs.” Geralts loud laughter filled his heart with joy and he was lifted up, dried and covered into a warm blanket, before he was put onto the bed and fed small pieces of cheese and meats. He loved how his Witcher took care of him. He wished that they could live like this forever. They made love two more times that night until Jaskier couldn’t even stand anymore his body covered in love bites and small scratches his skin smeared with Geralts semen and sweat.

“Why is the sun out Geralt? Tell it to go away. It offends me.” Geralt snorted and brushed through the hair resting on Jaskiers forehead. “It is out because it’s already noon my little lark. We should get some food hm?” Jaskier nuzzled closer not making any effort to get up. “Do we have to? I’m warm and satisfied and…and I really need to pee. Shit.” Geralts laughter followed him outside. The small washroom at the end of the hall was thankfully empty and Jaskier washed his face and looked into the old mirror above the little basin. He liked how debauched he looked, only wearing one of Geralts big shirts, one shoulder exposed, the skin showing teeth marks and love bruises. When he left the room again he ran into one of the Waitresses and slipped, hitting his head against the wooden door frame. The young girl tried to help him up, saying something in a worried voice and probably apologizing but Jaskier could not hear.

His head was pounding and his vision was blurry as memory after memory came crashing back into him. He remembered everything. Geralt brooding alone in the corner, him being fascinated by him from the second he laid eyes on him. “The Butcher of Blavikien.” A punch to his stomach. Roach. Black eyes, Potions, stitching wounds, the smell of blood. Road after road after road. Elves, Geralt caring, Geralt shouting, a new Lute, Geralt grunting. The Djinn, bickering like children. Yennefer. The broken window, his broken heart. Longing, love, lust twisted in his guts. The Banquet, the looks, the baths, and finally the mountain. Jaskier looks at the Serving Girl and mumbles “Okay, I am okay.”, and slowly stood up. He waves the girl off and she runs off, relieved he wasn’t angrier with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru


	5. That I might understand as best I can - How bold I was, could be, will be, still am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier remembers and doesn't get mad - yet-  
> Two can play the game of lying

He stood there in the hallway, barefoot, no pants and covered in Geralts Marks. The events of last night came back to him in excruciating detail as he turned around back to the washroom and vomited up last night’s dinner. His mind went fast and the trained part of him told him that Geralt would soon come looking for him. He washed out his mouth with water and stood up straight. He needed more time to think this over, more time to figure stuff out. Geralt was cleaning his armour when Jaskier came back to the room, lifting his head and smiling at him, forcing himself to smile back. “Are you all right little songbird?” Geralts asked with a worried tone in his voice and was almost too much for Jaskier to bare. “Yes, just…a bit sore.” he answered quickly “I thought I might go for a walk. There is a small market nearby.” Geralts just nodded and started to gather his things. “Oh no, dear Witcher. You don’t have to come with me.” Jaskier said hurrying to get his own clothes on, to wrap himself into something that didn’t smell like Geralt. “Are you sure little lark?” Geralt said looking up at the bard suspiciously. “Yes, Geralt. I just need some air, stretch my legs a bit.” Jaskier said looking him straight in the eyes and praying to any and all gods that the Witcher would let him go on his own and feeling a rush of relieve washing over him, as Geralt just nodded his head in acceptance. He pressed a small kiss on Geralts cheek and something in him cried out in pain and pleasure.

“Of course.” The Witcher replied understandingly. “Do you need some money?” At this Jaskier stopped for a second confused and surprised by the Witchers question. The old Geralt would have never asked him such a thing. He would never have shown so much concern or cared and lo- … he stopped himself then, realizing the Witcher was still waiting for his answer and said: “No I still got some savings.” Geralt brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him. It started sweet and chaste but Jaskier being only human and in love with Geralt soon plundered the Witchers mouth in hunger, which earned him a deep laugh before Geralt slowly but surely tried to signal Jas that now was not the right time. “Easy Jas, you need to rest a bit first.” Gods, Jaskier had never been so conflicted in his whole life before. He nodded and finally left the room, almost running down the stairs and outside, not really looking where he was going, just needing to get some peace and quiet to think.

Finally, he stopped looking around and finding himself in a small alleyway, near to the market not yet crowed by people. Perfect. He allowed himself to sit down in the heavy snow then rested his head against the wall of the house behind him. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing until he found himself a bit calmer than before. He let the events of the last two weeks wash over him again, picking apart all the little details of Geralts behaviour. He had seemed reluctant at the first to return his kiss at Connors Stable but Jaskier had thought nothing of it back then, now he knew it was because that kiss had been **their first kiss**. “Fuck.”

He felt tears running down his cheeks and he swiftly wiped them away. Okay, so he had a few options here. He could just wander off, leave town on his own and run. Of course, his stuff was still at the inn and it was winter and he knew he wouldn’t make it very far before he froze to death or worse but it was an option nonetheless. He could of course storm back to Geralt, tell him that he remembered and demand an explanation, which would end in them fighting and shouting and maybe not seeing each other ever again but that was not something Jaskiers love heavy heart would survive. Gods, what had come over Geralt, why would he do such a thing? Was it a cruel joke? The more Jaskier thought about it the less sense it made. No, Geralt wasn’t a cruel man. He may have never treated Jaskier like a friend, at least he would never admit they were, but he wouldn’t torture him like that. Then there was also the fact that all the loving looks he had given him these past two weeks seemed real.

The kisses and touches and last night when he had taken him, again and again, growling “Mine” into the nape of his neck. Jaskier was unsure of how long he sat there deep within his own thoughts but in the end he only thing he took away from all the thinking was that he loved Geralt, truly loved him and that whatever this thing they were having now was he didn’t want to lose it. So he scrambled back up on his feet and made his way back to the inn.

Geralt started to feel uneasy, it had been over an hour since Jaskier left to get some air. He was worried that something had happened to his bard but just as he made the decision to go looking for him, Jaskier stumbled back into the room, teeth clapping loudly. “Oh. Geralt! Please tell me we can afford another bath.” “Of course Jas, I’ll send for it right away.” They shared a quick kiss before Geralt went downstairs to order another bath and some soup to warm his bard up. When Geralt came back Jaskier was still shaking so he made short work of the bards’ clothes and pulls him into the warm bed with him.

“Did you at least find something nice for yourself little lark?” he whispered in Jaskiers ear as he held him tight, shielding him from the cold with his body. Jaskier shook his head and watched as the serving girls filled the bathtub before turning back to Geralt answering his question “No I just wandered around a bit, I didn’t look, maybe we can tomorrow? Together?” “Of course little lark.” Geralt said lifting him out of the bed and putting him into the steaming tub as soon as the girls had left. Jaskier sighed deeply, his body relaxing immediately after sinking into the hot water and blinking his eyes open after he realized that Geralt was not joining him.

“Are you not coming in?” he asked. Geralt shook his head. “Too tempting, you need to rest.” “Oh,” Jaskier replied a little disappointed but kept watching the Witcher, with half-closed eyes, while Geralt was rummaging through his Potion pack to find some small metal tin filled with cream. Jaskier remembered that it was good for soreness and bruising and he wondered if it was meant for him. “Can you hand me the soap Geralt?” he asked. Geralt didn’t, instead, he took a small washcloth and after covering it with soap he started to gently and very softly wash the bard. Jaskiers throat felt tight. Nobody, not even his own mother, had ever taken so much care with him. He could feel the affection and love coming off the Witcher in heavy waves and Jaskier was unable to breathe for a moment. “Do you want me to clean your hair as well?” “Yes please.” He hadn’t washed it in a few weeks and he liked it when it was clean and freshly taken care off. It was way longer than in his performing days and he briefly wondered about it. “Would you cut it for me Geralt?” Geralts hand stopped in his track then his hand coming to rest on Jaskiers thigh, his amber eyes looking up at Jaskier.

“I would not trust me with scissors Jaskier, I am sure we could find someone more suitable for that, besides I like your hair longer.” His fingers brushed through it before he continued washing him with a soft look in his golden eyes. “But of course if it bothers you we will find someone to cut it for you, Darling.” **Darling**. Jaskier had to close his eyes and lean back then not wanting the Witcher to be able to read all his feelings in them. Gods, the man was impossible. How could he not love him?

“Mhm, I don’t mind it longer. Just don’t cut yours,” he said to the Witcher in return. “Never.” Came the reply before he felt Geralts hand in his hair again, gently washing it. Afterwards, the Witcher had him lie on the bed to rub the thick healing cream into his skin. It was like sweet torture being touched like this, with so much love and care like a butterfly. Geralt refused to touch him properly, insisted he needed to at least rest until tomorrow before they could make love again. Jaskier was so very eager. He wanted to do it with all his memories intact so he could truly enjoy himself and the damn Witcher refused to take him tonight. Instead, he fed him hot soup and left him with the potion book in bed before leaving for the Market himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru


	6. Let not them hear - The mutterings of all your fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft!Geralt surprises Jaskier with a gift. Jaskier is still unsure how to react

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan to post today but all your sweet comments made me so happy I decided to post the next chapter a day early!   
> All your comments mean so much to me! THANK YOU with all my heart! Happy Valentines Day ~Jules

Jaskier finished his book and started going over his old song notes when Geralt came back, the sun was already setting outside as the Witcher bowed over him to kiss his head. He handed him a hot cup of tea and started to unpack some things he got at the market. Jaskier watched him over the edges of the book, sipping the hot apple tea and thinking. He was warm in bed, the air smelled clean and warm and there was a fire burning beside him. He was loved and cared for and the heavy snow outside was covering the windows in a beautiful coat. For a second he wished he was able to wield magic, to freeze this single perfect moment in time. His thoughts were interrupted by Geralts deep voice. “I got you a new cloak.” “Oh,” Jaskier said in surprise and stood, forgetting that he was naked but not blushing when he realized it just walking over to Geralt who was trying very hard to not look at him.

“For fuck's sake Jas! At least put a shirt on, no reason to taunt me so.” A smile spread over Jaskiers face and he did put on one of Geralts shirts, the same one he had worn this morning. The grunt that came from the Witcher then assured him that this outfit was not much better than being naked and he was pulled in a tight hug. Geralt held him so close he could feel the other man’s slow heartbeat against his chest before he pressed small soft kisses onto Jaskiers face. “Here.” Geralt pushed a thick Cloak made out of warm sheepskin and wool covered in blue and white fur into his hands. The bard stared at the luxurious piece of clothing. Not only must it have been very expensive but the Witcher actually picked up a fashionable piece that would complement his colouring and- Jaskiers eyes stopped as his gaze fell onto the small silver brooch fastened at the collar. It was oval-shaped with the head of a howling wolf surrounded by flowers.

“Geralt!” he breathed hard and his hands started to shake. “Geralt. I…please.” He draped the cloak around his shoulders and urged for Geralt to close the brooch at the end not trusting his own shaking hands. Geralts hands were steady but he dared not look into Jaskiers eyes while he closed the small clasp. “Do you like it?” Geralt asked his voice sounding small in his hears and he cleared his throat before he continued. “Will you wear it?” A delicate hand lifted his chin up and he was forced to look into cornflower blue eyes. “Until the day I die,” Jaskier said and kissed him desperately full of emotion and pressed himself against his Witcher.

“You do have to take it off before you go back to bed Jaskier.” Geralt laughed at Jaskiers pout and helped him out of the cloak again. “It is really beautiful Geralt. Thank you. I- I love…it.” Geralt hummed happily and hung the new garment over the chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle overnight. Jaskiers arm came around his back and his small hands stopped to rest on his chest while his face was pressed between Geralts shoulder blades. “Thank you.” The bard said again and Geralt turned around to hug him properly.

They stood together like this for a while before the low rumbling in Jaskiers stomach reminded him of his hunger. They ate together in comfortable silence, perched on the small bed next to each other, Jaskier reading in his notes, Geralts hand in his hair. “I like you like this.” Geralt said. “Mhm?” Jaskier raised his head and looked at his Witcher. “When you are reading quietly.” If it weren’t for Jaskiers classical education his face would show how bitter the comment made him but he forced himself to smile and look back into his book. Was that why Geralt hadn’t told him the truth? Did he only like this version of him? The silent, complying Jaskier that did neither sing nor play nor babble about everything that interested him. His stomach turned and he suddenly felt sick. “I’m tired.” He whispered, almost too silent for the Witcher to hear, but Geralt did pull him flat onto bed and covered him with the blankets, kissing his head good night.

Jaskier pressed his eyes shut, pushing his nails into his own legs to keep himself from crying. How long could he go on like this? How long could he pretend to be less energetic, less talkative than his true nature? How long could he keep Geralt? He turned around and buried his face in Geralts shoulder, wrapping his arms around him. “Geralt?” “Hm?” “I need you.” Geralt smiled and kissed him sweetly. “Tomorrow little lark. I promise, just rest some more, you must still be sore from last night.” The bard indeed was but he needed... he needed to be with Geralt as long as he could, not being sure how long he was able to keep up with this ruse. “At least kiss me like you mean it.” Laughing Geralt complied and claimed his soft lips in a deep kiss before pulling him closer and softly petting his hair and back, lulling him to sleep slowly.

When he woke up breakfast was already sitting on the small table with a note telling him that Geralt was taking care of Roach. The bard made sure to stretch and put on his warmest clothes before draping himself into his new coat. As soon as he left the inn he heard Geralts soft voice coming from the stable, probably talking to Roach. A part of him wanted to go closer, to listen in but he didn’t want to impose on the moment and so he waited. A short while later Geralt walked out the stable and smiled when he saw him. “Good morning little lark.” “Good morning dear Witcher.” Strong hands grabbed for him and he was pulled flush against the hard chest of the Witcher before kissed him fiercely. “Geralt!” The white Wolf just laughed and kissed Jaskiers nose. “We should gather rations today at the market so we can leave tomorrow. Roach is eager to get going as well.”

“Ah...yes, but don’t forget your promise.” A dark glimmer appeared in Geralts eyes as he claimed his bards’ lips in another hungry kiss. His low voice sent shivers down Jaskiers spine, his lips brushing over the shells of his ear. “Oh don’t worry Jas, I will make good on my promise as soon as we gathered everything we need.” “Well! Let’s go then! Hop hop.” Eager he started to run towards the market, Geralt following him, grinning like a mad man.

They refilled their supplies and filled Roaches packs and bags to the brim. They would leave early the next morning with first light and it was more practical to make sure they had everything they needed now. Back in the room, Jaskier let himself sink into the furs in front of the fireplace to warm himself up. Soon he was joined by a large body behind him, wrapping him into big arms and pressing him into a warm chest. He knew that it was part of Geralts Witcher mutation but even after all these years he was still surprised about the Witchers body heat. “How long until well reach Kaer Morhen?” Geralt started to unbutton Jaskiers shirt, reaching around from behind and letting his rough finger wander over Jaskiers collarbones. “Two weeks if we are able to keep pace.” “Mhm.” Jaskier hummed and leaned into the caring touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru


	7. All the stones and kings of old Will hear us screaming at the cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier finally gets what he wants but afterwards, his rage breaks free

Two nights ago they had rushed but this time Geralt took time and great care to slowly undress him. He caressed every bit of Jaskiers skin he uncovered, kissed the warm flesh. His touch was soft and loving and it was heaven and hell at the same time for Jaskier. It took forever but finally he was naked, pressed down into soft furs, Geralt hovering over him and kissing him so deep and long he forgot how to breathe. He was painfully hard but every time he jerked his hips up to get some friction Geralt evaded him. “Please Geralt, please I need to feel you.” He knew he was begging but he didn’t care, all he wanted was to be full with his Witcher. Geralt pressed soft kisses into his neck, licked over the bite marks he had left the previous night, not in a hurry at all. “My sweet little songbird. Jaskier. Julian.” Jaskiers legs started to shake, his hands gripped at the furs under him, panting and whining.

“I want to take my time with you. Want to taste every inch of you. Want to take you apart with my hands, with my mouth, my tongue until all you remember is my name.” Jaskier whimpered. “Gods Geralt!” Geralts large hands cupped his face and he was kissed again, their tongues dancing around each other until Geralt had mercy and let him catch his breath. He took Jaskiers arms into his hand and pushed them up high above the bards head. “Keep them here.” Swallowing the bard nodded gripping at the furs above his head to steady himself. Geralt pushed his way back into Jaskiers neck, licking and softly sucking, his hands pressed carefully into the bard’s hips, just to hold him down, not to leave bruises. He kissed a soft trail down to the bards’ collarbones and covered both in featherlike kisses. His mouth wandered lower, while he pressed his nose into Jaskiers chest hair, inhaling his scent. His love smelled of parchment still and chamomile and sweet and spicy and perfect.

He licked over Jaskiers left nipple and was rewarded with a soft whine leaving Julian’s mouth. He pulled the sweet little nub into his mouth, sucking, grazing it with his teeth in a teasing motion. Under him Jaskier went limb and then pushed against him, still doing as he was told and keeping his arms up but moaning and pressing his chest against Geralts hot mouth. He made sure to give the other nipple a similar treatment before letting his kisses trail down to the bard’s navel, dipping his tongue inside. “Oh, Gods…” Jaskiers voice sounded wracked and Geralt let a proud smile spread across his face before he pushed another kiss into the soft skin around Jaskiers navel and continued southwards. He circled the bards leaking cock, ignoring it, for now, to lick at his sharp hip bones making his way down to the vulnerable inside of his thighs.

He could feel the racing pulse under his tongue, could feel the fine sweat building on the delicious skin, could feel how hard Jaskier was struggling to keep his arms up. He felt so proud of his Lark, taking his orders so well. “You taste so sweet Jaskier.” A soft moan was his only answer. One of his large hands made their way up to Jaskiers face his thumb slightly wiping over his bard's mouth. “Open.” He said and Jaskiers sucked his thumb greedily into his mouth, sucking like his life was depending on it. Hissing Geralt got back to flicker his tongue over Jaskiers skin, brushing over the underside of his balls. He blew some hot breath over it and Jaskiers legs started to spasm around his head. “You can move your arms, Lark.” Relieved Jaskier let his arms down, clawed them into the Witchers shoulder and hair, pulling and tugging, holding on for dear life. He was certain he would die like this but what a fitting way to go, his life force sucked out of him by the Witcher through his aching cock. Not that Geralt had even touched his hardness yet, he was still licking around his balls and it was driving him insane. “Geralt! Please!”

“Ah, will you let me taste you, Julian?” What a stupid question that was, as if Jaskier could say no to anything his Witchers demanded. “Yes, just get on with- Meliteles tits!” Geralt had flung his left leg onto his shoulder, pushed his right leg back into a bend and used his strong hands to pull his cheeks apart, diving right in between them. There was nothing finesse about it and gods if it wasn’t the best feeling that Jaskier had ever experienced. He had had many lovers over the years, men and women alike but no one had ever touched him there like this. Geralts hungry tongue pushed into him at the same time as one of his large calloused fingers and Jaskiers vision blacked out for a second. He was reduced to a whimpering mess and all he could do was chant Geralts name over and over like a prayer.

Soon there were two fingers inside of him, spreading and pushing over his sweet spot while Geralt put his mouth on his cock. He stopped himself every time he felt Jaskier was about to come and only continued after the bards breathing had calmed down again. “Gods I hate you! Stupid Witcher! Son of a Whore! Hate you! Hate you! Hate you!” Geralt looked up and smiled softly. “I hate you too Jas.” Jaskier started to sob and pulled Geralt up into a slow sloppy kiss. A third and fourth finger entered him shortly after and he was panting into the Witchers mouth, desperate for breath. “Please Geralt, Please, Why won’t you let me come?” A low rumbling chuckle against his ear followed by “I rather have you come on my cock Jaskier.” was the Witchers answer.

Finally, the gods had mercy and Jaskier felt Geralts huge cock against his now lose rim. Even after all the preparation, Geralt was still a lot to take in and he forced himself to breathe and relax. His legs were pushed up to his chest, one still halfway over Geralts shoulder, bending him in half. He almost ripped some of Geralts hair out when he tugged on it, spilling himself all over Geralts stomach with a loud scream shortly after the Witcher had started fucking into him. Geralt grunted happily and fucked him through his orgasm, relieving himself shortly after. He didn’t pull out right away, instead resting his head on Jaskiers chest, breathing a bit faster than usual. Jaskiers hands softly touched his head and he kissed the beating heartbeat he could feel under the sweat-covered skin.

“I am going to miss this.” Jaskiers voice sounded so sad and bitter that Geralt pushed his head up to look at his bard. “We will find another inn on the way little lark.” “Yes…of course.” Jaskier suddenly smelled sad and Geralt felt uneasy and worried. He slowly left the warm embrace of his lover and wrapped him into blankets. “I love you Jaskier.” He needed to make sure his bard knew, maybe then his sad smell would lift again. Instead, it only turned more sour and bitter, laced with despair and when he looked at Jaskier all he could see in his eyes was heartbreak.

“Why Geralt, why do you love me **NOW**? Because I don’t remember?” Jaskier asked then, tears in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. “What, no? I-“was all a taken aback Geralt could say before the bard stopped him and continued “Because I’m nice like this, soft and warm and I do everything you tell me. I don’t sing, I don’t babble, I don’t whine and complain about travelling.” Geralt felt all blood drain from his face while Jaskier continued. “Because I don’t stop to look at flowers, or pluck them, because I don’t play the lute all hours of the day. Because I am silent now? How dare you say you love me! How dare you make me feel so warm and save like you are my home when you don’t mean it! HOW DARE YOU!” Jaskier had gotten up, ignoring the warm semen that was still running down his thighs and getting dressed in a hurry. “You love me you say? You are a liar Geralt of Rivia! You only love the idea of me! The agreeing little servant boy that doesn’t say no to you, who has no own opinion, who just takes everything you give him!”

He was shouting now and grabbing his things. “You could have left me there! At Connors! You could have just moved on! I was happy! But no, you had to destroy that too, like you destroyed everything we, no I built up in twenty-two years, you destroyed that back at the top of that retched mountain!” Geralt just sat there, naked and bare and didn’t dare to take his eyes of Jaskier. “I-“There was nothing he could say. Nothing that could take Jaskiers pain and anger away. The anger he wholeheartedly deserved. He was a true monster even though he loved Jaskier. All of him. His anger and rage. His babbling, his singing, his constant complaining, his flirting, his everything. But he didn’t dare to say any of those things, he just looked at him letting him fling insult after insult at him.

Finally, when there was no more energy left in Jaskier, no more energy to scream and shout, he took his bag, slung it over his shoulder and headed for the door. “I wish I had never met you. I wish to never see you again Witcher.” He spat the last word like people used to do to him many years before they met. Geralt kept sitting there, naked and for the first time in his long life, he felt cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a comment to your Writer ;)  
> You can also find me on Twitter @ladyahiru


	8. You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments in wonderment At you and more, forever asking more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions in the snow

Weeks later when he found his way back to Kaer Morhen Ciri and Yen were already waiting for him and when they saw him alone they worried for him. He went to his room almost immediately followed by Yen and to her surprise, he pushed himself against her and started to cry. Geralt didn’t even remember the last time he had cried in the company of someone else, maybe before his mother had left him when he was still a child. Yen listened to his story, bubbling from him between his ugly sobs and let her fingers run through his hair to soothe him. She wanted to tell him how stupid he was and shout at him but she knew it wouldn’t do him any good so she just let him get it all out. She put a slight sleeping spell over him afterwards since he looked like he hadn’t slept for days and went down to find her adoptive daughter. “Your father is an idiot.” She huffed while accepting a cup of soup from Ciri. “Which one? The one I have met or the one I haven’t yet?” Yennefer’s bright laughter hailed through the keep and she knew that everything would be all right in the end.

Meanwhile, the bard had taken up singing and writing again. Oh did he write, about heartbreak and betrayal and love and- None of those songs would ever be sung in public but he needed to get the emotions on paper. It’s been almost a month since he had stormed out on Geralt after making love to him after the Witcher had confessed his love after Jaskier had unloaded all the suppressed anger and heartbreak that he had carried with him for over twenty years. He had felt good afterwards like a weight had been lifted from him, easy and free from the hurt and anger but his brain hadn’t caught up with his heart yet and when it finally did he realized that Geralt hadn’t shouted back, hadn’t even defended himself, had just looked at him with so much love in those amber golden eyes. A tiny voice in Jaskier whispered that maybe, just maybe what the Witcher felt was real and he shouldn’t have run but now it was too late. He had made his way back to the inn two days later but the Innkeeper told him that Geralt had left that very morning.

He knew roughly that Kaer Morhen was somewhere in the northern mountains, surrounded by some kind of Witcher Magic to keep it hidden. The snow had been falling for days and he could feel himself getting close. The pull he felt was similar to the feeling he got every time before running into Geralt again. It had been snowing for days and Jaskier made very slow progress. The mountain range was huge and he had eaten his last ration two days ago. He regretted bringing his lute now, he should have sold it for more food but the regret came too late. He was tired and hungry and so very cold. Maybe he should just look for shelter and rest for a while, yes that seemed like a good idea. He looked around and found a nice looking tree, his legs giving out under him as soon as he reached it. He sat there, half perched against the rough trunk and felt his eyes drifting shut. “Just a little nap…”

Vesemir was sick of the brooding Wolf. Ever since his return he was even more broody and closed off than usual. They were all gathered together into the big dining hall on the second floor, from which you had a great view of the castle grounds and onto the surrounding areas. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel for his pupil but all the brooding got on his nerves. Eskel and Lambert played a card game with Ciri while Yen tried to keep them from cheating. Geralt didn’t engage in any of the activities, instead, he sat alone in front of the huge fire, staring into the flames as if they contained his life’s answers. Vesemir sighed and looked out the window again, wrinkling his forehead when he realized what he saw. “How curious.” The others looked into his direction, waiting for him to continue. “It seems there is a chestnut-haired bard, freezing to death, just outside the barrier.” Geralt stood up with such force that the armchair he had used fell over. After he had rushed out of the hall the others looked at Vesemir with wide eyes. “Ah, I might have exaggerated a bit…” The old Witcher smiled while Yen grunted.

Geralt ran out the keep and down the stone stairs, barefoot only wearing his shirt, not bothering to stop for boots or a cloak. The cold snow crunched under his feet and he almost slipped at one point. It didn’t take him long to find the slumped over figure in the snow and he picked Jaskier up bridal style in a swift motion. Surprisingly the bard woke up right away. “What-? Geralt?” Jaskier mumbled. “Hm.” was the only reply he got from the Witcher. Geralt didn’t stop until he was back inside the keep, hurrying up the stairs to his room, where someone had lit a fire in his absence. “Geralt let me down you brute, what are you doing?” “You can’t die!” “What?” “I can’t, you… I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of your live Jaskier but you can’t die on me like this. I can’t, I can’t bear it.” Geralt put him down into the armchair in front of the fire and kneeled down in front of him. Jaskier looked at him, the raw emotions in the Witchers eyes, and softly put his hands against the larger man’s cheek. “I am not dying you, idiot. I was just resting a bit.” Jaskier assured him. Again, “Hm” was the only response he got. Jaskier had learned over the years to read Geralts face, his grunts and his little Hms and he knew this one was relief. “I was looking for Kaer Morhen, well for you actually and it seems like I found you.” You’ve been looking for me?” Geralt repeated dumbstruck.

“Yes. I owe you an apology-““No! Jas, no!” Geralt interrupted him. The young bard pushed a hand through his own hair and sunk down to the floor, kneeling right in front of Geralt. “Are you barefoot you idiot? There’s snow outside!?” “Had to get to you…” Geralt mumbled. Jaskier looked, truly looked at him and suddenly all the tension was leaving his body. “Gods we are both idiots.” He shook his head. “Geralt, I am going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me and actually answer not just gruff or grunt, ok?” Geralt nodded and huffed astound as Jaskier took his hands into his. “Why did you lie to me? When you found me at Connors, why didn’t you tell me right away when I misunderstood?” Geralt was silent for a long time, fighting with himself to find the right words, he at least owed that to the bard. Jaskier didn’t hurry him, let him take his time, just slowly stroking his fingers over Geralts hands. The gesture was almost too much for him and finally, he answered. “I was scared that it was the only way I could have what I truly wanted.” Jaskiers eyes grew large and the cornflower blue pupils looked wet with unshed tears.

“Geralt you absolute stupid, onion smelling, Moron.” He flung himself into the Witchers arms. “Don’t you know I am yours? I have been yours as soon as you told me the creatures in my ballads don’t exist!” Geralt slowly pushed his own arms around Jaskier, uneasy and careful as if he was afraid that Jaskier could vanish any moment then he realized what the bard had said and slowly blinked. “Jaskier that was 23 years ago.” “Duh…” the bard said with a smile on his face. Geralt looked at him, his bard, covered into the cloak he had bought him, the brooch still on his collar. “Jaskier…do you…does that mean…fuck.” The softest of kisses were pressed onto his trembling mouth. “I love you Geralt of Rivia, I have done so since I first laid eyes on you.” Geralt allowed himself to let out one small sob before he pulled Jaskier into a crushing hug, pressing kisses to the side of his face. Laughter erupted from the smaller man. “I love you so much Geralt.” ”I love you too little lark. I’m so sorry-“…. “Don’t, all is forgiven. I will always forgive you.” Geralt held him close, pulling him onto his lap, breathing against his neck, not moving for a while.

“Jaskier?” … “Yes?” … “Will you stay? With me?” the Witcher asked. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Witcher, of course, I’ll stay with you, or travel with you or-“a rough finger on his lips stopped him. “No, I mean. With me!?” Geralt looked as frustrated as Jaskier felt confused. “Yes?” Jaskier repeated still confused as to what Geralt really meant. “No, With me. Will, you…do you want to…” He pulled his leather hairband from the white strands and wrapped it around their laced together hands, around the wrists and the fingers, fastening it together. Jaskier felt his eyes grow so large for a second he was worried they would fall out of his head. He stared at the Witcher, then down to their hands, then back at the Witcher. “I. You. Us. With you. I.” Jaskier stumbled over the words, his throat dry, his fingers shaking as he realized what Geralt was really asking him. Sadness took over in Geralts face and he nodded, slowly and full of sorrow. “I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t-“the Witcher started to say, his voice hurt and losing hope… “Ask again,” Jaskier said. Geralt looked up into Jaskiers smiling face, warm hope starting to raise inside his belly again. “Ask again Geralt.”

The Witcher took a deep breath, straitening his shoulders and caressing the bards’ fingers with his own. “Would you like to stay with me? Be mine as I am yours? Will you accept to be bound to me?” Jaskier took one of his lute strings out of his case and wrapped it alongside the leather hairband. “I accept you as mine, as I am yours.” Jaskier took a deep breath, holding onto the strings for to dear life and continued “You touched my hand and reached my thoughts, you kissed my lips and reached my heart, you looked into my eyes and touched my soul. No words were said, no thoughts exchanged. Through only a touch you changed me, with only a kiss you moved me, with only a look you brought me life.” he had learned the old traditional words a long time ago in Oxenfurt, it seemed like a lifetime ago now. Tears of joy fell down his cheeks as Geralts face turned into a bright smile. The Witchers had their own Oath, older then the words Jaskier had spoken. Older and full of long-forgotten magic, that not even Geralt was aware of.

"Across the years I will walk with you in deep green forests; on shores of sand. And when our time on earth is through, in heaven, too, you will have my hand. Upon this day, our hands we bind, a symbol of our hearts entwined. To witness this, we ask of thee, our union forever blessed be." The kiss they shared then was tender and sweet and they pushed their foreheads together looking down at their joined hands. To their surprise both the strings had become one long string that glimmered in a low golden light. “Geralt? Not to start into our marriage uneasy but what just happened?” Jaskier asked looking at the long string. “I…I don’t know. We should go ask Vesemir” Geralt replied. Jaskier nodded and they bought scrambled to their feet. As they did the string separated on its own, each strand wrapping itself around their left wrist once, twice, three times and then sitting there, still slightly golden.

When they entered the dining hall Vesemir took one good look at them and slapped Geralt on the back of his head. “Idiot boy! A union! Now we will have to deal with a bard of all people for the next few centuries!” Geralt blinked. Jaskiers confused look wandered between Yen, who smiled at him openly, which made him feel very uneasy, a young girl he quickly realized must be Ciri and two other Witchers. Vesemir took pity on them and explained that Geralt had invoked the ancient magic of the land. Binding their souls and lives together as one. As long as they did not remove the golden bands by their own choice Jaskier would age as slow as Geralt and live as long as him.

“Please tell me there’s some alcohol in this keep” Jaskier whined while letting himself fall down on a wooden chair. Geralt looked uneasy but Jaskier raised a hand to stop him before he could talk himself into something stupid again. “I love you dear and the idea of spending centuries with you is very much welcomed. It is just a bit much for little old me.” Geralt nodded. “I’ll bring you some wine…and some food.” The other Witchers introduced themselves and Yen sat down next to him. “Well if it isn’t my favourite trouble making bard, finally chaining the white Wolf down.” “Yen I.” She laughed and put a warm and gentle hand on his arms. “I am truly happy for you Julien.” She said and she actually seemed sincere. She patted his arm and then hooked herself in between Eskel and Lambert, forcing them both to follow her out the room. Vesemir looked at him

“Welcome to Kaer Morhen. We expect you to help out.” and left as well. Jaskier looked at Ciri, the only person besides him in the room. “You must be Princess Cirilla-“he said. “Just Ciri” the girl replied quickly. “Ciri, that sounds nice. I am Julian Alfred Pankratz, but I actually prefer Jaskier, or Jas to my friends.” She smiled at him as bright as only a child could do. “It is nice to meet you Jas.” “It will be a pleasure to get to know you.” If possible her smile grew even bigger and Jaskier felt immediately drawn to her. She rose to her feet, passing Geralt on her way out, who put a bowl of hot steaming rabbit stew in front of Jaskier as well as a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Geralt? Can we perhaps…have that in your room?” Jaskier asked. Geralt nodded and carried the food up to the tower. Jaskier stretched himself out on the big armchair in front of the fire and happily accepted the offered stew. Geralt sat down at his feet, resting his head against the slender legs of the bard, enjoying his presence. “You know…. If someone would have told me yesterday that today I would not only be married but also immortal…Oh and apparently with a daughter now…I would have smashed them with my priced lute.” Jaskier mused.

Geralt looked up at him, taking the empty bowl from his hands and replacing it with a cup of wine. “Is it…are you?” Geralt hoped all this wasn’t too much for the bard. “Yes love” the bard assured him. “Good,” he said and took a sip from his own cup. “I need you to do one thing for me though.” Jaskier said and something in his husky voice set Geralt aflame. “Whatever you need little songbird,” the Witcher said. Jaskier took the cup out of Geralts hand and put them aside before pushing Geralt down onto the floor, straddling him. He leaned down to whisper into his husbands’ ear. “I need you to make me sing.” And Geralt, good husband that he was, obeyed eagerly and made his love sing all night long.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this! I am very grateful to have found my writing muse again. All your comments made me so happy I actually already finished the next Fic and currently working on a Modern AU;) Thank you all so much for your support and love and special thanks to my lovely editor/beta Kat who understands me so much that working with her is a pure joy!


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